TONIGHT the new The Howl & The Hum play Leeds Irish Centre, still led by singer and songwriter Sam Griffiths but with a line-up wholly changed since the York band’s trio of elegiac, unforgettable valedictory gigs at The Crescent last December.
In the tradition of a seven-year hitch, Sam parted company with bassist Bradley Blackwell, guitarist Conor Hirons and drummer Jack Williams, who had first met at open-mic nights in his University of York days.
Now living and working in Leeds, he addresses his feelings over the impact of the band’s break-up, together with the pandemic and his life-changing future direction, on Same Mistake Twice, the second album under The Howl And The Hum’s moniker, the first as a solo project with musicians friends on hand.
Available on CD and digitally since September 6 and now on vinyl too after a not-uncommon delay in printing, the album is self-released on Miserable Disco Records with distribution by AWOL. To buy, either head to thehowlandthehum.com or townsendmusic.store/products/artist/The+Howl+%26+The+Hum.
Those are the facts. Let’s now quote Sam’s official statement on The Howl And The Hum chapter two. “This is an album about dread. About a very real, everyday dread so many of us feel surrounded by screens showing us how we should be, what a good person is, what a bad person is.
“It’s about trying to have and handle and process big, messy emotions in a world that wants things to be small, simple and quickly decided. Every person is flawed, every person has baggage, shrapnel they take with them that makes the airport security beep.”
Sam continues: “This album is about acknowledging that shrapnel, poking it, flipping it and seeing what lives under it, and learning to fall in love with the version of yourself full of holes and missing pieces.
“This is a break-up album mourning the loss of a band, and all that comes with it: ego trips, insecurities, lost friendships, fading love, rekindling old fires and a path to acceptance.”
In keeping with the confessional, frank tone and vulnerable soul-searching of an album that opens with the title track lyric “You left for London like everyone else does/I stayed in Yorkshire avoiding success”, Sam says: “I don’t think I have come up with any consistent label for what this new phase is – not to sound like an ambivalent polyamorist – and the reason I say that is I don’t like to put labels on it, though I’ll call it an expansive solo project with an elaborate number of co-writers, co-musicians and co-producers.
“Fifteen-plus musicians contributed and then there’s another whole team for distribution and PR. But as Mark E Smith used to say, ‘if it’s me and your Nan on bongos, then it’s The Fall’!”
As it happens, Sam’s grandmother’s upright piano does feature on the album. “She left it to me in her will,” Sam recalls. “She was a piano teacher and that piano was my musical upbringing. Three quarters of the new songs were written on there.”
The album, the follow-up to 2020’s Covid-blighted Human Contact, takes its title from the defining opening couplet: “I never make the same mistake twice, I always aim for a third time”. “It’s a very human thing to do: to repeat a mistake,” says Sam, who was amused at the prospect of being asked “Why would you want to give your second album that title?’.
“But I’d already written that opening track, so let’s talk about mistakes. We can make mistakes and learn from them, but we can also go back to them and repeat them and that tells us more about us. The more fallible the human is, the more interesting.”
Talk turns to the album’s focus on dread. “There’s a lot to dread sadly, and it feels like there are a lot of reasons for it. The most inescapable moments in our lives are filled with dread,” says Sam.
“The way those moments build up, if I ignore them, it’s like the ivy growing on the side of a house, but if you shine a light on them it feels braver and maybe they will not be as devilish as they first seem.
“The album is an absolute exploration of dread but hopefully with a sense of fulfilment and coming out into the light, with music standing for joy and embracing the community around you.
“It’s trying to find our own version of the light, finding strange reflections in the gloom, rather than being as obvious as just walking into the light. You can find things that are closer than the light at the end of the tunnel, which is often unobtainable, whereas you could appreciate the earth under your feet in the tunnel.”
As indicated by that lyric quoted earlier – the act of staying in Yorkshire avoiding success – the album reflects on “the dream I had to be a super, mega pop star and then year by year that peels away and you get a little older and you think, ‘may I will not be a Premier League footballer’.
“’Maybe, at 32, I’m not going to be an astronaut’,” says Sam. “It’s about appreciating the things you do have, like a fine wine. You begin to see the problems in the dreams you have.
“Why do we hold success up to the light? We have this screwed-up version of what success is, but surely it should be about different versions of fulfilment, not financial or social mores, but security and space in this world?”
Among those making the album with Sam were tonight’s support act, Elanor Moss, and Matthew Herd, whose saxophone playing is now a prominent feature of the new The Howl & The Hum live line-up.
“Elanor and I met over Zoom in the middle of lockdown and started writing together,” says Sam. “We both got into songwriting while we were studying English Literature at university, starting at open-mic nights, and she introduced me to producer Joseph Futak, who’s based in Hackney. Matthew is the principal songwriter in a band called Seafarers and he’s London based too.”
Joining Sam and Matthew on stage tonight at the sold-out Leeds Brudenell Social Club will be drummer Dave Hamblett, London guitarist Arun Thavasothy and bass player Naomi McLeod, Sam’s house-mate in Leeds. Doors open at 7.30pm. Stage times: Elanor Moss, 8.15pm; The Howl & The Hum, 9.15pm.
